The Old Mage
by AdorableAnarchist
Summary: An Old Grey Warden's secrets may come to light despite her best efforts. Rating seems high for now, but it will become M as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

"Is it true, then?"

"How should I know? It's not like she talks to apprentices. Hell, she doesn't even really talk to the First Enchanter anymore."

"Then ask her. I dare you."

"I don't know. What if she turns me into a toad for waking her up?"

"Coward. I bet she's too old to do any spells any more. I mean, look at her! She's wrinkled like an old apple."

The two apprentices stared at the wizen mage who sat, dozing in the sun. She looked like someone's grandmother with her silvered hair scraped back into a knot at the base of her neck and a knitted blanket around her knees. Could this really be the Grey Warden who had led the charge against the archdemon at Fort Drakon?

"Fine, I'll do your paper for summoning class if you ask her."

"Deal."

The young boy could not believe his luck. Summoning was his worst class. If he could get out of his paper simply by asking an old woman who she was, well, it was definitely worth it. Summoning was a pain in his arse and not just because his mentor insisted on nothing less than perfection. He had yet to summon anything beyond a baby nug that immediately dropped dead.

Closer he crept until he stood but a few paces away. He cleared his throat, "Umm, excuse me?"

"What is it, child," the old woman asked, her voice rusty from disuse. She did not open her eyes, though she turned her face towards the sunlight streaming through the tiny window.

"I, I mean, we," the boy gestured to his friend standing partially behind the door jamb, "We want to know if it's true you were at Fort Drakon?"

The old woman finally opened her eyes, staring intently at the boy. "So, someone finally works up the courage to ask me, then," she laughed softly, "Well, come sit, both of you, and I'll answer your question. It's not as though I have anything else to do."

"Where shall I start, boys," she asked as they seated themselves at her knees, "At the very beginning before Ostagar? Or shall I go forward straight to the arch demon?"

"You were at Ostagar," the second boy gasped.

"It seems I should start at the beginning," the old woman shifted and shakily reached for the mug of tea on the small table beside her.

"My name is Malaya, and I was a mage of the Circle and a Grey Warden," she paused to sip, "I suppose, since you both have taken the time and gathered the courage to talk to me, you may call me Maly, like my friends once did."

"Now then, where was I," she shook her head slowly, "Oh yes, the beginning. All good stories have a beginning and, I assure you, my story is a good one."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ostagar was impressive, younglings," Maly smiled as she looked down at their eager faces, "It gleamed white in the sunlight. That only made King Cailen all the more striking as he greeted me and Duncan. His golden armour was like the sun and gleamed without a single fingerprint," Maly paused and sipped her tea.

"What was the king like?"

"Oh, full of old tales and stories about even older honour and adventures," Maly chuckled softly, "I thought him so young and excited. But, he was kind and took time to greet the young mage that stood before him."

"I heard that he died at Ostagar and so did Duncan the Warden."

The old mage sighed sadly, "Indeed. It was hard to realize that. Duncan was a good man, a noble man and Cailen, he was so young in spirit."

The mage paused and adjusted her lap blanket, taking the time to compose herself. It would not do for the boys to see her come undone during her tale. No, she would reveal the horrors of the story, but without falling prey to her own emotions.

"Duncan had sent myself and Alistair to the Tower of Ishtal at the king's request. That was the only reason two Grey Wardens survived when Loghain pulled his men out. Well, that and Flemeth's magical rescue."

"The Witch of the Wilds," one boy exclaimed, "How did she rescue you?"

"I am told that she swooped down in the shape of a giant bird and plucked Alistair and me right off the top of the tower," Maly chuckled at the amazement on each boy's face, "I was told that by Flemeth's daughter, but she had an odd sense of humour. I do not know if that really happened. I had been badly wounded and only Flemeth's magic kept me alive."

Maly cleared her throat and reached once more for her tea. How could she explain to these young boys who had grown up in a world of peace the terrors that she had seen? Did she even want to?

"What happened then?"

"Hush, she and Prince Alistair started gathering armies, you nug," the older of the two lightly punched his friend in the shoulder.

"Boys," Maly's voice reminded her a moment of Wynne's. She paused. Wynne… It had been ages since she had thought of the older mage, now long gone into the Maker's embrace. Ages since she had heard Wynne's voice take on the exact exasperated tone with Alistair. Even now, his name brought a bittersweet pain to the mage's heart. It no longer felt as though she was ripping in two, rather, it was a pang for what might have been.

"And yes, Alistair and I started gathering allies. We started with Flemeth's daughter, Morrigan."

"And you ended up with an Antivan Crow, a dwarf, a mabari, a qunari, and a golem," the older boy interrupted, his voice taunt with excitement.

"And do not forget an Orlesian bard," Maly laughed. They were charming scamps, truth be told and it had been a long time since anyone had diverted her thoughts so. The nightmares had started, shaking her to the very marrow in her bones. She needed something to keep her mind off what that meant.

The youngest boy moved to rest his head on her knee and she absently stroked his hair. It was blond, rather like Alistair's. How silly she was being today, seeing her old lover everywhere she turned.

"So, you have heard of Ostagar, what other tales can I tell you?"

"What of the Deep Roads," asked the older boy.

"I do not think that is a tale you should hear. The Deep Roads are too horrifying, even for brave lads such as yourselves." Maly could feel the tension slip out of the younger boy. He would have listened to her tale to prove his bravery, but regretted later that night. Far better to spare him the nightmares.

"Did you know how I came about my faithful Mabari, Etzian," Maly asked, deftly changing the subject. At the shaking of their heads, she continued, "I was wandering through Ostagar before the battle. I had not even been made a Grey Warden at this point. The kennel master asked for my help in muzzling the great, slobbery beast," Maly paused, smiling fondly, "He had bitten a darkspawn and tasted the tainted blood even as his owner had perished. The kennel master asked me to find a herb in the forest when I went out for medicine."

"I didn't see the beast again because that night I became a Grey Warden and the battle began. All I knew at that point was surviving. The dog never crossed my mind, I'm afraid. And yet, one day, while walking towards Lothering form the Wilds, I heard a bark," Maly cleared her throat and reached for her tea, "And there he was, racing towards me, his stump of a tail wagging as though it would fly from his rear end," Maly paused as the boys laughed.

"Of course, he brought me quite the gift. A warband of darkspawn were following him. They were quickly dispatched and Etzian became a member of our little group. He was good dog, faithful and strong. He would talk to me, just as I am talking to you, it seemed."

"But, mabari are fierce warhounds," the littlest apprentice spoke up, his voice soft with shyness.

"Yes, they are. Etzian was no different. He would charge into battle with a ferocious bark, chomping and biting everything he could get his mouth on. But, he was also kind and loving, a truly faithful friend. I miss him dearly."

"I want a mabari too!"

"Me too!"

Maly laughed, "I don't know, children, I think the First Enchanter would have something to say about that."


	3. Chapter 3

"Boys, where are you?"

The shout caused both of the children to start. Maly pursed her lips, "Are you two supposed to be doing something else?"

They nodded in tandem. The youngest piped up, "We're supposed to be helping the kitchen today."

"I see," Maly cocked her head as the shout was repeated, "And, knowing the Circle as I do, you will be in trouble for neglecting your duties, yes?"

The boys nodded once again.

"Well, let's see if we can keep that from happening then, shall we," Maly called out, "Are you looking for two young apprentices?"

A very harried woman strode in, "Indeed I am, Mistress Malaya. I am so sorry they bothered you."

"Oh no, please, they have been very kind to keep me company today," Maly slanted a sly glance at the boys before turning back to the woman, "In fact, it is such a nice change, having company."

The young mage had the good grace to look embarrassed, "Forgive me. I assumed, I mean, we all assumed that you wished peace and quiet."

"Perhaps I could have these boys visit me in the afternoons once their lessons are done," Maly looked to the boys, "Would you like that?"

At their vociferous agreements, Maly turned to the other mage, "With your permission, of course?"

The woman shrugged, "I'm not going to deny the Hero of Fereldan anything, Mistress," she offered a wry smile, "But you may have gotten more than you bargained for. These two may give a hurloc a run for its money."

'That may be. We shall find out tomorrow," Maly held up her hand, quashing any protests, "No, lads, I am weary and need to seek my bed to rest til supper. I will see you here tomorrow."

Before he followed his friend and the other mage out, the littlest apprentice ran back and pressed a kiss onto Maly's wrinkled cheek, "Thank you!" She started in surprise but he was gone before she could say anything. Tears pricked her eyes and she cursed herself for being an old fool. It had been easy, pulling away from the Wardens and then pulling away from the Circle. It had been the coward's way out and she knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

Maly listened to the quiet crackling of the flames in the hearth. If she strained her ears, she could almost hear the laughing of her old companions. How she missed them all. She had not thought that she would end up so alone or so lonely. Maly's lips twisted into a semblance of a smile, though tinged with pain. It had been her choice to be the last one, but only after she had been given no other.

Oh, but why had those children come to her door? Why had they opened a heart purposefully left closed? She honestly did not know why she had begun regaling them with her tales. Could it be the loneliness that she had lived with for so long? Was it because of the nightmares that were beginning once again?

"Well, deal with it, old woman," she snarled at herself, "You are too old to rage like you once did. And besides, Wynne isn't here to stop you."

With a groan, she pushed herself out of the chair and made her way slowly to her bed. She was weary but did not want to face what would be waiting for her in sleep. And yet, the heaviness of her eyes left her little choice. It seemed that her choices had been taken away ever since that moment on top of Fort Drakon. Even now, she could feel the anger, the hate, the betrayal of that moment.

Maly slid beneath her sheets and lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Love had vanished in a single moment that still stood out starkly in her mind. How could he have done something so stupid? So selfish? Fool man! Oh, how she had raged once she was well enough to get out of bed. Only Wynne's magic had kept her from burning the room down in a fit of pique.

It was so long ago and she could still feel the fire of her anger. That fire had propelled her forward. She had recruited new Wardens and rebuilt as though her very life depended on it. She drove them hard, striving to make certain each learned the lore and the duties involved. There would be no secrets left to be discovered in times of need. She pushed them at their training so that they would face Darkspawn and not flinch or falter. Day in and day out, she had recruited and pushed those recruits until they would have made even Duncan proud. She pushed them hard, but not as hard as she pushed herself.

"You're gonna burn out, Warden," Oghren had cautioned her. They had paused from a sparing match, both covered with bruises and sweat. Maly had sagged down next to him, leaning against the wall. The nug-lover had gotten past her magic's reach and landed a goodly number of blows before she could retreat. Damn, but he was fast.

"What do you mean? Should I switch to ice spells then," she laughed carelessly, taking a drink of water from the dipper in the pail between them

"I mean, I seen this before, you sodding fool," Oghren glared at her, "In fact, I believe you yanked me outta somethin' just like this," he gestured with a steel-covered fist, "You're pushin' yourself til there's nothin' left. Don't be a fool. The Wardens need you."

"And they have me, of course," Maly replied, refusing to meet his stare, "Am I not the first up each morning and the last to rest each night? Am I not out every few weeks seeking out new recruits? Do I not lead parties to hunt down remaining Darkspawn? Am I not in Denerim dealing with that bitch of a queen to keep us safe from politics?"

"They have your body but not your soul, girl," Oghren sighed and shook his head, "I don't like this, Maly. I don't like it one bit."

"Then feel free to return to Denerim or Orzamarr," Maly spat out, standing quickly, "Because I do not care to listen to yet another person whine at me that I am not acting how they desire me to act. I am doing my damnable duty, so everyone should bloody well be pleased."

Oghren's brows all but hit his hairline. He had seen the tiny mage angry before but never like this. On the one hand, it was rather funny. She all but quivered with rage and her cheeks were blood red. On the other, well, this was not the Maly he had grown fond of. Such anger lurking so close to the surface… It worried him. He drew in a breath to comment but she rushed on.

"As far as I am concerned, Ferelden got their precious hero, got saved from the Blight, and is safe from civil war. Their Wardens are flourishing and everyone can just kiss my arse and leave me alone."

She had stalked away, leaving her friend staring at her back in shock. Never had she seen Oghren speechless. Sadly though, that was the last time she had seen him. He had left that afternoon, without a good-bye. It had been her own fault. She had made such a mess of things, pushing everyone away. It had been too late to use Wynne's advice on Alistair, but on the rest of her companions… Each had been pushed away, some more gently than others. The better to guard their hearts, or so she kept telling herself. And now, she lay in bed, alone but for the dreams waiting for her in the Fade.


	5. Chapter 5

She could smell the stench of death and decay. It hung, all but visible, in the air and clung to every surface. Maly swallowed against the acrid bile in her throat and slowly turned to face her dream.

The Brood Mother chittered, suggestively running her tentacles over her massive, fleshy body. She tilted her head, studying Maly intently and then opened her mouth.

"This is what you will become, Warden," the creature chuckled softly, tentacles flowing endlessly over and around pasty flesh. "You have none to go with you, none to give you that final blessing of darkness."

"I did what I had to do," Maly threw back her head in challenge, not bothering to question why the beast could speak, "I kept them safe."

"Really," the soft laughter seemed to boom in the chamber, teasing the hem of Maly's robes, "Was it for their safety or yours, Warden?"

"Look at you," tentacles erupted next to her, stroking the fine wool of Maly's robes, "What are you now, Warden? Are you even a Warden, or did you run from them too? Warden, Mage, Hero," the Brood Mother's tentacles continued to stroke Maly's robes as a few moved to her hair, "You were everything and now? Nothing."

Maly stepped back, shaking off the seeking tentacles. Pulling on her will, she forced the scene away from her mind. She was, if nothing else, a mage still. She would not allow the Fade to control her. Tendrils of images flew before her eyes as she stood straighter. The years fell beside her as the whirlwind of images continued. After all, she could control the Fade, why not remember herself as she used to be?

"Shall I make the rude joke about being happy to see you, or will you," the voice whispered beside her right ear. "And no, that's not a dagger in my pocket."

Maly's lips twitched as she turned, facing the Antivan elf who rarely was without words. She arched a brow and assumed her most prim expression, "You are a wretch."

"I, of course, know this," Zevran perched on a stone wall as the scene shifted. It was a pretty stretch of Fereldan road. Maly remembered it well. They had stopped for lunch and the companionable teasing had deteriorated into a fight with the remains of the meal. She sighed and leaned against the wall beside her old friend.

"Why are you here, Zev," Maly asked sadly, "I've already seen the Brood Mother and been reminded of my fate, I spent the day regretting everything I have done. Are you here to torment me too?"

"My dear Warden," he laughed, reaching up to pull on a curl that had escaped from its pins, "I am here to remind you of the good times. You forget them so easily."

"I had to," Maly shook her head away from his fingers, "If I let myself remember," her voice trailed off, "It hurt too much."

"You did not let us see that," Zevran's voice was accusing and Maly realized the light-hearted banter was not to continue, "You did not give us the chance to help you. All we saw and felt was your anger. Shall we speak of hurt, my dear Warden? The tears that Leliana shed from your sharp and hateful tongue? The way the years seemed to pile on Wynne's shoulders because she was not allowed to comfort someone she considered a daughter?"

Maly reeled back as struck, but Zevran continued, "How about Sten and Etzian, banished from the sight of someone they both loved and respected. Banished without even a thought to what such a betrayal would do to their spirits? As for Oghren, I believe you remember how that went."

She shook her head, hands balling into fists at her side, "No, Zev, I beg you, stop."

Any thoughts of controlling the Fade flew through her mind as the assassin stalked over til he was but a breath away, "I would have helped you piece yourself and your heart back together," he whispered, his fingers trailing up her arms til he gripped her shoulders. He shook the tiny mage until her eyes met his, "We all would have helped you, but you shoved us away as though we meant nothing to you."

His eyes burned into hers and his fingers dug painfully into her shoulders, "Were we nothing but tools to you? Perhaps the Crows misjudged you even more by not seeing how much like them you operated, dear Warden," he twisted the familiar endearment into something hateful. Maly struggled, but he only gripped her tighter.

"Please, Zev," she hated how her voice rose, how tears clogged her throat and swam in her eyes. "I never meant it like that."

The elf pushed her away, staring down at her impassively as she stumbled and fell, "Pity it is too late for you to tell us this, Malaya. For your friends went to their graves thinking only of your hatred."

The fire had died down, casting only a rosy glow over the room. Shadows danced in the corners. The old mage lay in bed, her eyes open and her cheeks wet. Had her friends truly believed that she hated them? Maly struggled to sit up, scraping at the tears on her face. She had not cried in decades. She leaned back against her pillows and tried to remember when… Ahh, yes, the night she had visited Avernus in his tower. The pain had been more than even the Joining. Tears had fallen then but for honor not pity. Maly pressed her fists against her eyes, willing the images form her dream to go away. Damn her honor.


	6. Chapter 6

_With a nod to Mary Kirby's "Interview with Loghain." __.com/forum/1/topic/47/index/640488&lf=8_

_This is just a little vignette to get us to the meat (pardon the pun) of the story._

"Good morning, Mistress Malaya," the serving girl smiled brightly as she set down the breakfast tray and moved to pull open the curtains. Sunshine tumbled into the room, chasing the last of the shadows from the corners.

"Good morning, child,' Maly replied, slowly getting out of bed. The girl helped her with her robe and settled her in at the tiny table by the window.

"Cook thought you'd like some pancakes today since she had a special treat come in yesterday."

Maly's nose quivered as she caught a scent that she had missed, "Pancakes and fried nug?"

"Indeed," the serving girl laughed, "And knowing how you eat like a teenage apprentice, she saved you extra."

Maly patted the girl's hand with a smile, "Thank you both, my dear."

The old mage contemplated her meal as the girl swirled around the room, setting it to rights. She chattered like a little bird and the music of her voice rising and falling was a balm to Maly's bruised spirits. She was still shaken from the dreams that had haunted her in the night. Had her friends really thought she hated them? Maly swallowed against a lump in her throat and reached for a piece of the crispy nug. She could not let herself think of it. It was too late for regrets.

"And, I'm supposed to tell you that there's a Grey Warden here to see you, Mistress," the girl's voice interrupted Maly's thoughts. A single silvery brow lifted in response as her mouth was too full to speak.

"He says it's important that he speak with you," the girl's voice lowered as though someone might overhear, "I heard that the First Enchanter got riled when the Warden refused to tell him why he wanted to see you."

"Interesting," Maly leaned back in her chair, another piece of nug idly clasped between two fingers, "Very well. Let the Warden know that I shall meet with him in a candlemark. I'd like a chance to finish eating and to dress."

"Shall I help you?"

"Oh yes, my dear girl," Maly smiled, though it did not reach her eyes, "Yes, I think I will dress especially for this visit."


	7. Chapter 7

She might be old, but Maly still knew how to set a scene. If she was going to meet this unknown Warden who came without notice, then, by the Maker, she was going to do it properly. He would meet the Hero of Fereldan, the ex-Commander of the Grey Wardens, a Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Mages and not a tired old woman who simply sought to fade away into oblivion.

Her chair had been angled so catch the sunlight that streamed into her room. Maly knew that it made her silvered hair blaze like a nimbus of power. Her robes were of the finest silk, saved from the days when she had had to meet with royalty and play the part of the Hero. They still fit her slender figure despite her appetite. Hanging between her breasts rested the pendant Duncan had placed around her neck – her Warden's Oath.

"Good morning, Warden Malaya," the Warden swept into her chambers with a charming smile and a bow.

"And to you, ser," Maly gestured to a chair by hers, "To what do I owe this surprise of a visit?"

"Perhaps I should introduce myself? Despite your fabled directness, I do find social niceties, well, nice," the young man flashed his smile again. Maly narrowed her eyes. She did not trust this one. He was too charming, too slick. He reminded her a bit of Zevran. Yes, with his thick, curly hair the color of fine mahogany and blue eyes that sparkled with the promise of mischief, he bore watching carefully.

He leaned forward and gently took her hand in his, raising it to brush his lips against the papery skin, "I am Warden Jaxon and it is my extreme pleasure to finally meet you."

Maly offered a thin smile as she withdrew her hand. She studied the young man before her, intrigued by the fact that he returned the study with completely unabashed openness.

"And do I measure up, young one," she asked, a small chuckle hinted in her voice.

"Frankly, I did not know what to expect," Jaxon responded, leaning back in his chair and stretching his feet out with a sigh, "Forgive me, Warden, but it was a long ride here."

"And just why did you come, Jaxon," Maly turned towards the table the serving girl had set up, "Wine? Tea?"

"No, thank you, but shall I pour you anything," he asked.

Maly's brows rose at the man's manners. She shook her head, "No, lad, and quit stalling. Why did the Warden Commander send you to see me? I sincerely doubt it is to check up on me," she snorted, "After the way he and I parted ways the last time, I believe he'd be happy to toss me into the Dark Roads and shut the doors."

Jaxon clasped his hands in his lap, "Well, some records were found in Soldier's Keep, dealing with a mage that you encountered. The Commander wanted to speak to you about him."

"Avernus," Maly asked, carefully putting surprise into her voice. She did not need the Wardens poking into her dealings with the mage. That was something best left undiscovered. "By the Maker, why would he want to know of Avernus? He's dead and buried."

"And yet, you are not," Jaxon pinned the old mage with an intense stare, "You have managed to survive the Taint longer than any Warden on record. Surely you can see why we would be interested in you."

"Really," Maly smiled slowly. It was a look that many young Wardens and apprentice mages had learned to fear. "I find it interesting that you are here now, of all times, to question me about someone who died so very long ago. As far as I know, my living this long has to deal with the fact that I was on the tower when the Archdemon was killed. That's what I was told by the Orlesian Wardens."

Jaxon waved away her explanation, "The Commander would just like you to come and visit Amaranthine for a few days and speak with him and some mages."

"I see. And how does he expect me to get there? I can barely move across this room. Shall I fly there are the great, swooping wings and a giant bird?"

Her sarcastic comment, said without thought, took her by surprise. Giant birds… Flemeth's rescue… No, it was not the time to let the past capture her thoughts. She had to remain in control. This boy was sneaky and smart. She admired him but was wary.

"Actually, we thought a litter and a slow pace might do for you," Jaxon offered a charming smile, "If there is anything we can do to make you comfortable during the journey, you have but to ask me and I will make it happen."

"You speak as though it is an assumption."

"Do you really wish to remain here, cooped up, with only dry, boring mages as company when you could be out in the fresh air with me," Jaxon laughed.

"Hush, you, I'm old enough to be your grandmother," Maly's cheeks paled and she swayed in her chair as Wynne flashed into her mind. She had said that to Alistair often. She could see them, as clear as though no time had passed. Wynne teasing Alistair about bedding younger men and Alistair blushing as the rest of the party laughed under their breath. It hurt so much.

"My lady," Jaxon was out of his seat and at Maly's side in a flash, "Are you alright? Shall I send for someone?"

"No, no, just memories," Maly shook her head slowly, trying to shake the images from it. She sighed. The nightmares were getting stronger with each passing night. It would probably be best if she were with the Wardens. They could get her to Orzammar easier than the mages.

"Very well, Jaxon," Maly sighed, once again feeling the inevitable net of Fate drawing around her, "We can leave tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

Jaxon studied the old Warden as she reclined in the litter. She seemed to take in every detail of the lands that they passed. Time and time again, he would see a flash of recognition and then, again, he would see that tell-tale paling of her cheeks. There was something up with the cagey old woman and he could not leave a good mystery alone.

"I trust you're comfortable, Warden," he asked as he moved his horse to ride beside Maly.

"Yes, thank you," she said, offering what appeared to be the first genuine smile he had seen. He could see past the years to the beauty she once had. The tales had not done her justice, but then, they had not focused on her looks, only her deeds.

"We will be stopping soon for the evening. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Maly found herself surprised into a laugh. She was starting to like this Jaxon and it worried her. She would have to be extra careful.

The young warden stayed close to her as the group made camp. He made certain that her every want and need were attended to. He spoke to her with a mix of flirtatious charm and easy respect. He thought it might be a balm to the fact that all of the others barely spoke to her, only whispering behind her back.

His mission could not fail. The Commander had entrusted him to bring Warden Malaya back so she could be questioned about her longevity. The very fact that she had survived so long was beyond belief. The Orlesians put it down to her having been on the tower when the Archdemon had been killed by Prince Alistair. Perhaps it could have been so. Jaxon teased a piece of bark from the log he used as a seat.

He had been the one to find the papers in Avernus' tower. They spoke of experiments most unsavory and of the summoning of demons. Towards the back of the well-worn journal had been notations about his discussions with the then Warden Commander. Apparently, the two had spent much time together, mage to mage. Had she learned Avernus' form of blood magic? He could not believe that. She seemed so normal, if a bit reserved and cool. But, what if the tales of Avernus were true? What if the reason that Malaya had lived as long as she did had nothing to do with the Archdemon and everything to do with Blood Magic?

"Jaxon." The fact that she used his name startled him more than the fact she had come up behind him as silent as a ghost. He turned to find Maly standing behind him, leaning on her staff.

"Yes, Warden," he answered, scooting over to one side of the log and patting it in invitation. Maly smiled and slowly seated herself on the log beside him.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, staring into the fire, "You have been very kind to me, kinder than I deserved."

"Ahh, but dear lady, you deserve every kindness," Jaxon turned slightly towards her, laughing into her serious expression.

She reached up and patted him on the cheek. He caught her hand and held it. "Warden, I know this was not easy for you. If you can help us stave off the Taint for even a few years," his voice trailed away.

"Please, call me Malaya or," she paused and then took that final step, "Or call me Maly."

"Maly, eh," Jaxon shook off his mood easily and chuckled as she retrieved her hand, "Maly seems to suit you best. I do not think you are as serious as 'Malaya' sounds. In fact, I would bet ten sovereigns that you were very mischievous in your day."

Maly found herself warming to his easy manner despite her best efforts and allowed herself a chuckle, "Oh, and what gave you that idea? Are there stories of me, perhaps?"

"Only those that were written by bards," Jaxon tilted his head closer to her, "Your question intrigues me, Maly. Are there stories of you I should know?"

"You are far too young to hear them, my dear, far too young."


	9. Chapter 9

Maly nodded her thanks to Jaxon as he helped her settle into the chair across from the Warden Commander's desk. She leaned back and offered an icily thin smile.

"It's been too long, dear Rylan," Maly waved a hand as she spoke, as though she had not a care in the world. She would play the elderly woman card as long as she could. "I was so terribly surprised when you sent for me, my dear boy."

Rylan took a deep breath. From day one, the old Warden had driven him insane. Personality clashes, differences in style, technique, even the way they put on their trousers, as far as he was concerned. He returned the smile, though his might have managed to be a fraction cooler.

"Don't play me for the fool, Malaya," his chuckle was not one of amusement. "I assume Jaxon has spoken to you about our purpose and I'd like to get right down to it."

"What? Before I get a meal, a hot bath, and a good night's sleep," Maly's voice quavered, causing the other Wardens in the room to shift uncomfortably. "Really, Rylan, I've journeyed so far and I am so tired."

"Surely this can wait one more day, Commander," Jaxon spoke up. He knew Maly was not as feeble as she led others to believe, but he had also seen the way she had paled and started shaking when they came into sight of the Warden compound. There was something else going on with the mage beyond her wanting to tweak Rylan. If they were to get the desperately needed information, then they needed to keep her in good health.

Rylan growled, "Very well. But do not expect me to let you sleep in, Old Woman."

Reaching out her hand to Jaxon for assistance in rising, Maly smirked at Rylan, "You know, you always were a little scitan*, Rylan, even as a recruit."

Her spine was straight as she left the room amidst the gasps from the others. As they made their way down the hall towards her room, Maly noticed that Jaxon was shaking. She angled her head to look up at him questioningly. He could only shake his head, his face turning a darker shade of red with each passing second. Once they were far enough away from Rylan's office, he let loose with a whoop of laughter that startled Maly.

"My dearest lady, that was the most magnificent display I have ever in my life seen," he gasped out between chortles, "The look on his face, the shock of everyone else as the sweet, little old lady used such a word," Jaxon leaned against the wall to catch his breath.

"Yes well, I meant what I said," Maly said primly. Jaxon composed himself and offered her his arm once more. As she placed her fingers in the crook of his elbow, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek, "If I were but twenty years older, my lady."

Maly snorted genteely, "If you were but ten years older, my dear boy."

He opened a door and waved her through, "I hope this will suit you, Maly."

She nodded, barely glancing at the room, "It will be fine."

"I made it a point to have them place you next door to me, as a precaution."

Maly arched a brow at the young Warden, "A precaution? Why? Is Rylan going to murder me in my sleep," she held up a hand before Jaxon could reply, "No, no, he wouldn't do such a thing. He'd never get his lily-white hands dirty. Ohh, let me guess, he's hired the Crows to finish what they failed to do years ago!"

Jaxon sighed, "Really, Maly, it's just in case you need something in the middle of the night."

Maly stopped the tirade that was forming on her lips the moment she saw his face. Blessed Andraste, the boy was serious. He meant to make sure she was all right during the night. And then realization dawned as bright as sunlight on the edge of a sword. He had heard her nightmares in camp. How could he have not?

She smiled softly, "Thank you."

He blushed and shrugged, "I thought it might be easier if you had someone you knew close by. I know the," he paused and then rushed on, "the nightmares are getting worse."

"I appreciate the thought, Jaxon. It is nice to know there will be someone nearby."

Jaxon nodded and backed out of the door, leaving her to her own devices. Andraste's knickers, but he liked the old mage. When she let her guard down, she was funny and interesting. He had no idea what Rylan had planned, but it could not be good. He had never seen Rylan look as hateful as he did when Maly entered the room. Best not to think about it now. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a beast of a day and he had a feeling that he was going to need every ounce of wit he had to keep the Commander and the Mage from hurting each other.

Scitan: Old English for sh*t


	10. Chapter 10

"_Maly. Maaaaly,"" the figure before her drug out her name as he laughed and reached for her arm, "Nice to know you've finally decided to trust me just a little."_

"_Hush, Templar," she swatted at him, trying to keep her lips from twitching, "I know your lot are a sneaky bunch."_

_He grinned boyishly down at her, "How can we be sneaky in all of this armor," he asked, reaching over to tug a curl that had slipped from behind her ear, "Besides, I like Maly better than Malaya. It makes you more approachable."_

_Maly frowned, swatting at him once more. He held out his hand, palm up, and, slowly, a rose formed. It lay there, glaringly red against the dusty colors of the Fade. She drew in a breath, preparing to vanquish the dream but he held up a finger._

"_You never seem to want to talk to me, Malaya," Alistair continued to hold the rose out, "Why is that, I wonder?"_

_His smile hardened and then shifted into an expression of hatred as he crushed the rose he held, "You know you'll become this soon, Mage," he laughed as his face continued to contort and stretch into that of a hurlock. Maly stepped back, eyes widening as Alistair moved closer. _

"_Do you really think you can escape this?"_

"_Leave me be," Maly yelled, trying to dispel the dream. She looked around frantically as the Fade slipped away and only an empty campsite remained. Bodies of friends were strewn about as though a child had left its dolls when playtime was finished. There was Sten, the once proud Qunari, broken and bleeding. Lelianna, Zevran, Oghren, Etzian, Wynne, even Morrigan and Shale… All were lying there, covered in blood, faces drawn into expressions of terror, bodies crushed._

_Alistair only smirked as his face flashed between his own and that of the Hurlock. He shook his head as he reached for Maly's arms, "Oh no, my darling, that is one desire I will not allow you. You see the waste here," he jerked his head towards the camp as Maly stared, "That is what you caused. You did this to them."_

"_No, no, they all lived through the battles. The only one that died was," she stopped, unable to finish. The feelings came flooding into her, rocking her back a step._

"_Yes, my dear, the only one that died was me," slowly Alistair's face re-knit, becoming the image of the boy to whom she had once given her heart. He wrapped an arm around Maly's shoulders, studying the campsite, "But, you killed our friends as surely as if you had plunged a knife into their hearts. Why did you push them aside, Maly? Why did you shut yourself off from everyone? That's not what I wanted when I saved you."_

"_How dare you reprimand me," Maly wrenched herself from his arm and spun to face him, eyes lighting with fire, "How dare you, of all people, speak of responsibility to those you love, after what you did?"_

"_Do you hate me so much," Alistair's voice was wistful, "Did your heart die on that tower so long ago," he turned away as the campsite shimmered and faded into the room they had once shared at Aemon's estate._

"_I only wanted you to be safe. To live."_

_Maly swallowed against the tears she had never shed for him, "You left me, twice in a less than two days. How could I," her voice caught, "I couldn't go through that again. I had to harden myself. There was so much to do, so much to rebuild. I couldn't let myself think."_

"_You couldn't let yourself feel," a hand rested gently on her shoulder, "And so you made a deal with him."_

"_Please," she begged, "Don't…"_

_Alistair smiled wryly, "I wish things…"_

_Maly shook her head violently, "No, don't say it."_

_He shimmered from view, "If you are unwilling to deal with me, then I have to let them return," she caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes before she was flung into the Dark Roads. _

_Around her, she heard the rasping of rotting flesh against stone. She smelt the Taint of them as they moved ever closer. Their voices rose in joy as they saw the Grey Warden for their feast. Bodies leapt, flying through the air towards her with preternatural speed. All she could do was scream before they knocked her to the roughly hewn stones._

"Shh, shh," arms tightened and held her close as the voice hummed nonsense words in her ears. Maly tried to struggle, but the grip, though gentle, was too strong. Her body ached as the years she had shed in the Fade settled back onto her shoulders.

"Please," she begged, hating the weakness in her voice, "Please," she could not say much more as she began to shake uncontrollably. Seeing him, as though not a moment had passed since that last kiss on the tower… It had rocked her to her very soul. Maly gave in to the sobs and let her head drop as they ravaged her body and heart.

Kind hands continued to stroke her hair and back, as if she were but a child. How long she sat there, unable to see beyond the tears and grief, she did not know. There were decades of tears to release. And yet, the fingers stroking her hair never stopped.

Slowly, the sobs began to quiet themselves. Maly took a deep breath and raised her head, looking around with wide eyes. She was, of all things, in Jaxon's lap! She blinked slowly at the young Warden. He flushed and shrugged, carefully settling her back into her bed and drawing the blankets up.

"What, should I have left you alone with those terrors," he asked, his voice defensive.

Maly reached out a trembling hand and brushed his arm, "Thank you."

He nodded and offered her a glass of water, "Drink."

She flushed as her hands refused to hold the cup without shaking. Jaxon raised it to her lips and she drank greedily. He set it aside and studied her, "You know, Maly, if you need to talk," he voice trailed off. She looked so frail against the pillows. Her eyes were sunken in and her cheeks drawn.

"I don't know what I would say," she tried to smile, "I had a bad dream, as is customary."

"I've seen other Wardens go through the ending nightmares. They were never this extreme. I couldn't wake you!"

"And I couldn't free myself," Maly sighed and slowly shook her head. She was weary and heart-sore. "They are getting worse and worse, Jaxon. I don't know how much more I can take before I lose myself in them."

"Is that possible," he asked in surprise.

"Perhaps," Maly stared into the fire that was slowly dieing in the grate, "People get lost in the Fade all the time."

"Just don't do anything stupid," Jaxon cautioned.

Maly's eyes fluttered shut as she sank back against the pillows, "It's too late, my dear boy, I already did."


	11. Chapter 11

She was finally sleeping. Jaxon gently removed his hand from hers and tucked the blankets closer around her fragile form. He pursed his lips in thought as he studied the old mage. Just what had she done? What caused her to regret so much? Questions jumbled against each other in his head as he stooped to add more fuel to the waning fire. The only answers he had were scanty at best. Returning to his seat next to Maly's bed, Jaxon pulled the worn journal from his pocket and, once more, began to read.

The words were familiar. He had read the journal over and over until Avernus' writing had been burned into his mind. He had to be missing something. The blood mage had written about everything in minute detail but was eerily quiet on the subject of the Warden Commander that had saved his life. Jaxon idly ran his fingers along the cover of the journal, worrying the worn leather between his fingers.

He stopped and frowned. Was it thicker there where the binding met the edge. He slipped a dagger from the sheath at his side and carefully pried the paper from the leather . Several pages of parchment had been slipped between the two, hidden away. How could he have missed this? Was it some sort of magic that the hiding place was revealed only now? He returned the dagger to its sheath and slowly unfolded them. Avernus' writing stared back at him.

The Warden Commander is back. She is interesting to someone who has seen much over the centuries. I can smell the Power of her Taint. It seethes beneath the surface of her skin, calling to me. I have to wonder: can anyone else smell it? Do they not realize that this is why she is so loved? Yes, she is a hero, but the love the common folk have for her knows no bounds. Even the cold queen in Denerim is coming around to her charms.

She calls to them as the Archdemon called to the Darkspawn.

What is she now? Can I mold this? Can I mold her? She comes to me each time she visits the Peak. A tea tray in hand to entice me, a shawl about her shoulders to keep the chill of my labs from her… She smiles and laughs and asks questions of me. I find myself drawn to her, even though I know it is the Taint beneath her skin, the Power of the Gods, the Darkness… How I wish to mold her in the image I see in my mind.

Such power she would have if she would but let me improve her.

Jaxon shuddered at the tone behind the carefully penned words on yellowed paper. Avernus and his research scared him. The fact that Avernus seemed to hunger for the Warden Commander, for the very woman who slept fitfully under Jaxon's watchful gaze… It was disgusting and frightening. Just how far had the blood mage gone? Had he truly gotten his hooks and desires into Maly? Knowing now how paralyzed with grief she had been, would she have allowed Avernus to get close enough to change her? Would she have welcomed it?

They whisper that the Warden Commander is running herself into the ground. She works to rebuild the Wardens, play politics, and help the mages. One woman. She is a fool to think that she can do everything. Why does she push herself so?

I asked her this today. She came to my labs again, tea and cakes in hand. As she settled in across from me, I asked her, "Why do you push yourself so hard, Commander?"

The Commander froze then looked away. She would not meet my eyes for several minutes. When she looked back at me, it was only to ask, "One lump or two?"

She intrigues me. With each visit, I find myself wanting the answers to the secrets in her eyes.

He frowned down at the page. Avernus seemed to grow increasingly obsessed with the Commander.

Once again, She visits. This time, She is in battered robes, Her curls straggling around Her face, and fatigue etched in every line of Her body. There is no tea tray, no witty banter. She is grim and determined. There is a focus in Her that I have never seen before. Beneath the fatigue, She burns like a fire. She comes to me with a request – such a request. To see Her bow beneath the knowledge of what She will have to sacrifice… Once more, I am drawn to Her, as though a moth to Her flame. She is my Andraste. She will burn into immortality. I will attempt to fulfill Her request, grant Her what She desires. She will be my Masterpiece.

Jaxon could barely believe what he was reading. Maly had gone to Avernus with a request? She had willingly gone to a Blood Mage for something?


	12. Chapter 12

Jaxon piled whatever he could find quickly onto a tray while he waited for the water to boil on the hearth. Maly was willing to tell him everything! Could he really be this close to the answers he so desperately needed?

He shook tea leaves into a small, silver basket and dropped it into a tea pot. He liked the old mage. She had slowly opened up to him on the trip to Amarinthine, telling stories of the Blight and the rebuilding of the Wardens. Jaxon smiled a bit as he added a small pile of honey bars to the tray. Their talks by the fire each night had been fascinating – even his companion Wardens had sat closer each night, drawn by her stories.

"_I remember," Maly said, accepting a mug of tea from a young Warden with a grateful smile as Jaxon wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, "We had made camp one night. Alistair was, unfortunately, cooking. Morrigan had, as usual, made her own camp a bit away from us."_

"_That was the Witch of the Wilds, right," piped up the Warden that had given her the tea. He was hushed by another, but Maly nodded._

"Aye, Morrigan was a Wilder Folk, as Duncan called her, with forbidden knowledge and the attitude of a pit viper," Maly chuckled fondly, "She and Alistair were constantly fighting like school children. It was amusing, I must say. They often tried to 'get' the other with little tricks or sarcastic comments."

_Maly paused to sip her tea, enjoying the warmth that seemed to reach to her very toes, "Well, this night, Alistair had some help with his battle against Morrigan. It seemed that Etzian, my mabari," she elaborated at a few questioning looks, "He had deposited a half-eaten hare in Morrigan's pack."_

"_Oh yes," Maly continued over the laughter, "Alistair had seen what Etzian had done and could barely contain his mirth. There were a couple of times, as he waited for Morrigan to find her gift, that I thought he was going to fall into the," Maly paused, crinkling her nose in distaste, "Well, he swore it was stew."_

"_Morrigan screeched like a shriek when she found it sending Alistair to the ground in a fit of laughter. Etzian went bounding over to the witch who had yet to regain her ability to say more than the shrill yells," Maly smiled over the rim of her cup as she watched her audience collapse into their own laughter. _

_Jaxon grinned down at her, enjoying the light in her eyes. For a moment, she looked young again. Maly winked at him and leaned closer, "You think they've gotten over their fear of me yet?"_

_Each evening, another Warden would come and sit to listen to her tales. Jaxon was amazed at how they had unbent to laugh at her jokes. They were even unbending enough to offer her small treats whenever they stopped for rests during the trip. There was just something about the old mage._

He sighed and poured the boiling water into the pot. Apparently, there were still many Wardens that feared Maly, not the least of which was Rylan. He could not really blame them, not after what he had read. And he was suddenly aware as to why everyone seemed to fall under Maly's spell. Her Taint called to them, lulled them, entranced them.

And now, as soon as he could get the tea and food upstairs, he was going to find out the story. Jaxon blew out a breath as he noticed that his hands were shaking. It wouldn't be good for him to drop the tray on the stairs. No, he needed to pull himself together before he got back to Maly's room. Jaxon swallowed, took a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders as he picked up the tray. Months of research, of wondering, were all about to come to a head over tea, sandwiches, and honey bars. Jaxon smirked down at the tray and shook his head.


	13. Chapter 13

"Honey bars," Maly exclaimed happily as Jaxon placed the tray on the table beside her bed. He chuckled at her childlike enthusiasm and handed her a mug of tea.

"There. We should be set for the rest of the night," he gestured to the tray and the piles of food, "I didn't know what you would want beyond the honey bars."

"You are very good to me, Jaxon," Maly sipped her tea and regarded him over the rim of her cup, "Why?"

"Well, I will admit to being intrigued by your lack of death," Jaxon reached for a honey bar and took a bite, absently chewing. He swallowed and shrugged, "Aside from that, you are interesting and well, I like you. That is why I am good to you, as you call it."

"I suppose you should hear my story before you go much further then," Maly's lips thinned as she stared into the distance, "You may not find me as good as you think."

Jaxon was quiet as she shifted in the bed to face him better. Her eyes were dark and haunted by the past. She sat her mug on the table and took a deep breath, readying herself.

"I suppose the story starts at Ostagar when I met Alistair. I am certain you have heard the rumors of our relationship," she waited until he nodded, "Well, they were true. Alistair and I were close," she snorted and shook her head, " More than that. We were wildly and stupidly in love. Definitely stupid on my part. I knew better than he. A mage and an elf could never be with a human, let alone the prince. But, despite warnings from Wynne, I let myself believe it would be different for us."

Maly paused, reaching once again for her mug. Jaxon saw how her hand trembled. Her tale hurt her, he could see that. But, he made no move to stop her telling. He had to know. Maly cradled the mug in her hands as she returned his gaze.

"At the Landsmeet, I had it set for Alistair to become king. He would have made a fine one. He was a good and honest man who cared for Fereldan. There was compassion within him, something that that bitch Anora lacked," Maly wrinkled her nose in distaste, "How I loathed that woman. But, I digress."

"Everything went according to plan! Eamon was so pleased, he was all but chortling as we retired. We all gathered in my sitting room, waiting to congratulate Alistair. It was everything we had all worked for. I was so happy. And then, he walked through the door."

Maly's voice trailed off and she shook her head. The lines in her face deepened with sadness. She swallowed and forced herself to continue, "Before any of us could say a word, he took two steps towards me and started talking. Such things he said, about how the nobles would never accept an elf and mage as queen, how he would have to find a queen to give him an heir, that we were finished. Even now, it feels as though I've been punched in the stomach. It hurt to have him toss me aside as he did, but," she raised her eyes to Jaxon's, "to do it in front of our friends, I was mortified. I didn't know what to think or to do. He had taken everything I had thought we had and dashed it upon the floor in that sitting room."

Jaxon reached over and took the mug from her shaking hands and set it aside. He then covered her hands with his, "You know, Maly, the records always said he was a fool."

She chuckled softly, "I had hoped not to see him until the battle the following morning, but it was not to be. We had to meet with Riordan. Seeing him there, waiting in the hall for me, was another blow. He refused to meet my eyes and simply ushered me through the doorway. It was there I offered to take the final blow against the archdemon."

"You did? No one speaks of this," Jaxon gasped.

"Of course they don't," Maly grinned at him, "I was the only one of that group left to tell the tale, silly boy."

"But why?"

"Because Fereldan needed a hero and Alistair firmly planted himself in that spot, the sodding nug-lover."

She made a face and continued, "I was prepared to take the final blow. I even wanted it, honestly. And there we were, on top of the fort, the archdemon floundering around, and that bastard comes up and takes the sword from my hands. He tells me that he loves me too much for him to let me die," Maly's cheeks flushed with remembered anger, "Let me die! As if he had control over me. And then, off he goes, killing the archdemon and ruining everything we had worked to achieve! The Thierin bloodline destroyed, Anora on the throne…"

"You still alive with your hurt," Jaxon spoke up.

Maly nodded, seeming to collapse into herself, the anger gone, "Aye, the hurt. He told me it was because he loved me, but honestly, I think it was because he was too afraid to be king and I hated him for it. His heroic act for Fereldan was the most selfish thing I had ever seen."

"And so, there I was, the only Fereldan Grey Warden left, alone in a sea of politics, doing everything I could to keep us afloat. The Orlesians came and that created another set of problems. The mages requested my help as well. It seemed every where that I turned, there was someone needing something from me," Maly shifted in the bed as she relived the memories, "And there was Avernus. He offered me a chance to do everything I needed to do, be everything people wanted me to be," Maly paused and sighed softly, "More importantly, he offered me a chance to forget."

Jaxon leaned forward anxiously, "To forget what?"

"That I carried something far darker than the Taint within me."


	14. Chapter 14

_Malaya stood in the labs, eyeing the old mage, "Are you certain this will work?"_

"_My dear Commander, do you not understand what I have told you? Being that close to the archdemon when it died changed you," Avernus reached out and trailed a finger along the line of her chin, "If we do not do this, who knows what will become of you. What will become of your taint."_

_He smirked, watching the thoughts flit behind her eyes. Oh yes, she was ripe for the picking, his commander. Just another, careful nudge and she would let him do whatever he wished. His voice dropped, all but hissing as he moved closer to her, gently brushing as a smudge of dirt on her sleeve, "You feel the anger, don't you? It's always there, waiting to slip out when you least expect it, isn't it? It makes you want to do such things, Malaya, such terrible things."_

_She nodded, unable to speak. How could he know? She had tried desperately to keep it under control. The incident with Oghren replayed in her head and she turned away from Avernus, her face in her hands. _

"_Yes," she whispered hoarsely, "It's there, Avenrus. I can feel it trying to make me do things, horrible things," Maly shuddered as she parroted his words back to him, "I almost struck down the queen the last time I saw her."_

_Avernus laughed, startling Maly into turning to face him, "I would not call that a particularly bad thing, Commander, given the fact that the queen is a conniving wench."_

"_What happened to me, Avernus?"_

"_When Alistair killed the archdemon, their souls essentially cancelled each other out, or so we are taught," Avernus led Maly to a chair and helped her sit. He studied her briefly before going to his worktable, "But, my dear, what if that isn't what happened? What if part of the archdemon entered you as the only other Warden there? You did not die to destroy its Taint. You lived and so it does as well, within you."_

_Maly paled and wavered in her chair, "I have the archdemon in me," she gasped the words out as though each were painful to speak._

"_Well, it could be worse," Avernus barely glanced up from his notes, "You could be pregnant."_

"_You joke, now," Maly stood up, cheeks darkening with rage. She glared at the old mage, "How dare you joke about that? About this?"_

"_Enough hysterics, Commander," Avernus' voice bit through the haze of her anger, "Either sit back down and calm yourself or leave here and never return. I will not help a child throwing a tantrum."_

"I could not believe the way he spoke to me," Maly gave a wry chuckle as she shrugged, "Of course, reading his journal, I begin to understand a bit. I was to be a project of his," she glanced down at her hands, gnarled with age, "Apparently, a very successful one."

"What did he do, Maly," Jaxon could not help but press her.

Maly looked away, "He experimented on me, changing the way the Taint reacted to my body," she shivered at the memory and drew the blankets closer around herself, "The things he did, that I saw," her voice dropped, "There is good reason that blood magic is outlawed. I could hear him in my mind as he changed me, as he convinced the archdemon to mold to his wishes," Maly's voice cracked as she admitted her worst sin, "to my wishes."

She refused to look at Jaxon, "It whispers in my head still, the archdemon. It reminds me every day of what I lost. It mocks me even though it cannot act through me anymore."

Jxon studied her with fascination and distaste. She carried a piece of the archdemon within her and had controlled it with blood magic? No wonder she had been so reticent to tell him. This went against everything that he believed in. He pulled away and she let out a quiet noise, almost a sob.

"So," she whispered, "You now know my terrible secret. I am an abomination of the highest order."

"But why, Maly, why did you let him," Jaxon's lips curled with disgust, "do such things to you?"

"It was the only way to stop the archdemon from taking control of me," she leaned back against the pillows and let her eyes fall shut, "The only way to make it help me instead of hurt me."

"You do not know what Fereldan was like after the Blight. The Grey Wardens were weak and desperately needed to be strengthened on their own two feet, without intervention from abroad. The Circle was in tatters, young mages were left, alone in the world, at the mercy of ignorant people. I had to get the Wardens back into a place of power before Anora could destroy them. I had to help the Tower rebuild before a lone child destroyed all the good Wynne and I had done," her voice weakened and she shrugged, though the movement was so tiny he almost missed it, "I had to find a way to fight the evil within me before I destroyed everything, including myself."

The old mage bowed her head, her silvered hair masking the pain in her face, "What will you do with this knowledge, Jaxon," she asked, unwilling to see the horror and disgust in his eyes, "Will you tell Rylan, finally let him in on my secrets? Report me to the Chantry so that they can kill me without thought or ceremony?"

Jaxon stood, his mind still reeling, "I don't know, Maly, I don't know. I thought you would be able to help me, but this, this is…"

"I know. This is pure evil," she raised her head and finally met his shocked eyes, a sad smile on her lips, "I am pure evil."


	15. Chapter 15

Silence stretched between them for several minutes. Maly did not raise her eyes. Jaxon blew out a breath and dropped back into his chair. He studied the old mage for a moment before reaching out to cover her hands with his.

"Whatever it takes," he whispered, squeezing her frail hands gently, "You did what you had to do."

Maly raised her face to meet his gaze, her dark eyes filled with tears, "Jaxon," her voice caught and shook her head, unable to continue.

"What can I say," Jaxon managed a smile, "I'm a sucker for a woman with a past."

That surprised a soft laugh out of Malaya. Jaxon patted her hands, marveling once more at how frail she appeared on the outside. She slanted a glance up at him, "You said you thought that I could help you, young man. Care to explain?"

Jaxon looked away. She studied him, watching the firelight dance across his features. She could see the emotions warring there and placed her hand on his arm. He did not say a word as he covered her tiny hand with his. Once again, silence reigned, punctuated only by the quiet murmurs of the fire in the grate.

"I was a new Warden, barely a month from my Joining," his voice was low and Maly leaned closer to hear him. Jaxon squared his shoulders and continued, "Rylan sent me to Lothering to check on reports of a Darkspawn band that was roaming about. With me was another Warden, Keddric. He was supposed to put me through my paces, let me learn by leading," Jaxon frowned and looked down at their hands, "We were told about a farm that had been razed by the Darkspawn. It was my decision to set out right then, see if we could find any survivors or clues as to why they were suddenly attacking Lothering again."

"What happened to Keddric," Maly asked, gently prompting him as he lapsed into silence.

"Suffice to say, he didn't make it and I got to be the one to tell his wife and children that he wasn't coming home. He had undergone the Joining later than most, you see," Jaxon rubbed his sleeve over his eyes, "His wife was a good sort. She never minded when he would bring me home for supper. It was a welcome change from being under Rylan's eyes all the time."

"I never saw her smile after that. She got ill, seemed to fade away before our eyes. We buried her three months after Keddric."

Maly reached up to cup his cheek, "You know it was not your fault."

"I was the one that said we didn't need to wait for help," Jaxon pushed out of his chair and faced her, eyes flashing, "It was my choice and a good man died! The last thing Rebekah did was to beg me form her death bed to watch over their children!"

Jaxon spun away, raking his hands through his hair helplessly, "How can I do that when I've only got fifteen years left?"

His shoulders slumped, "It's my fault they are without their parents and I can't even be sure that I can take care of them like I promised."

"I'm sorry," Maly said, worrying the sheet in her hands, "I don't know what Avernus did to me, Jaxon, not the details. Even if I did, I don't think it would work."

"Because we don't have an archdemon for me to stand next to while someone kills the damned thing."

Jaxon looked over his shoulder at her, "You should get some rest, Maly. Rylan will expect to see you directly after breakfast."

The old mage said nothing as he left, shutting the door quietly behind him. The tattered book on her bedside table seemed to mock her as she reached for it. There was nothing to help Jaxon in its pages. She let it drop into the vacated chair and fell back against her pillows. Maker knew there was nothing in it to help her either.


	16. Chapter 16

The moon cast a silvery light over the battlements of Amaranthine as Jaxon leaned against them. If he tried hard enough, he was convinced that he could see a tiny cottage, cloaked in darkness. They slept there, in as much comfort as he could provide.

Mhari would probably still be awake, despite the entreaties of their nurse. She would be reading by the light of a candle stub. Jaxon knew she collected and hid them in the wooden box beneath her bed.

Tedric would be asleep, curled up with the stuffed horse doll his mother had made him. He hid the doll each morning under his pillow. Jaxon smiled slightly. It was by his order that the nurse had not gotten rid of the tattered toy. There was plenty of time for Tedric to grow up – had he not grown up enough already?

Maly had done whatever it took, even going against her scruples. Would he? Could he? He pushed away from the rough stone of the battlement and stretched his neck. Jaxon winced as a vertebrae popped back into place. For the two children sleeping below, he could and would.

"She's getting you, isn't she," Rylan stepped out of the doorway and walked to stand beside Jaxon. He stared out over the city spread below them. "She's good at that, you know. Getting to you. Tugging at your heart. She always was."

Jaxon leaned back against the parapet, away from the sight of the city and his charges, "You don't seem to like her much, do you, Commander?"

Rylan laughed bitterly, "Oh, I liked her fine. That was the problem, Jaxon. When she was younger, Malaya was like a hero out of the legends. She was breath-taking," Rylan shook his head as his eyes clouded with memories, "Watching her fight, magic crackling around her, her eyes dark with power. And then, next time I'd see her, she'd be bandaging a child's knee and slipping it a sweetie from her pocket. Her heart was as big as her power was terrifying."

He continued, "But, there were always questions. Always doubts. Riordan fell from the Archdemon's back and Prince Alistair died on the Fort when he ended the demon's life. Malaya was the only one that lived. Somehow she managed to rebuild the Wardens and the Circle," Rylan sighed, "Somehow she managed to live far beyond her thirty years."

The Warden Commander stopped, studying the darkened landscape. When he next spoke, his voice was low, "There was always talk, you know. She would ride off to the Peak without warning and closet herself away with that mage, Avernus. I went with her once. That was when I realized that there was more to Malaya than anyone knew."

"It was late, rather like tonight, with the moon casting enough light down to see by. I was on the parapet between the main keep and the Tower. It seemed the best place to think when my mind was clouded by woman troubles," Rylan paused and grinned at Jaxon. His face fell as he continued, "Malaya came out of the Tower, swathed in a dark cloak and looking as though she had been beaten. The woman who had survived the Blight and was commanding the Fereldan Wardens with more skill than any imagined was sobbing like a child. I ran to her trying to see what was wrong."

Rylan swallowed and his voice grew harsh as he slipped back into the memory, "She pushed away from me, her eyes wild. I had never seen her anything but composed, every hair in place. That night, she was like a wild thing, hair tangled about her face, eyes wide with horrors I could only imagine. I tried once more to catch her and did. I caught her arm for a moment, but she slipped away. She ran, leaving me wondering what had happened. The hand that had caught hers felt warm, wet. I looked down and saw, in the moonlight, that it was wet with blood."

"I never told anyone what I saw, Jaxon," Rylan angled to regard the younger Warden, "Not even when I found her cloak and gown hidden in the midden and covered with blood. But, I never trusted her again. Something was afoot with my Commander."

"And you didn't want to upset the balance by publicly decrying her," Jaxon nodded slowly, understanding his Commander's actions.

"Aye," Rylan placed his hand on Jaxon's arm, unerringly in the same spot Maly had earlier, "Be careful with her, Jaxon. For all her years, she is still powerful and even dangerous. I pray she tells us her secret tomorrow," he stepped away towards the door, "For her sake if nothing else."


End file.
